Stranger Danger
by hieikrai
Summary: In his travels Lowell finds himself frequenting a tavern in town because a young woman steals his interest. Flirting ensues. Pre-game.


She was sitting at the opposite table confident and talkative as ever, chatting with both fellows and women alike. She didn't care who they were as long as they were someone she could have a good time with. That's who she was. Even in an old beat up tavern like this one, a smile never seemed leave her face.

"A smile is the most precious gift you can get from a woman." A man he deemed wise had told him once. And it was definitely true here. He had been frequenting this tavern for nearly two weeks because of the now slightly tipsy woman asking the barman for another drink. She had caught his eye the night he arrived exhausted from his long journey into the village. She had walked straight up to him after he sat down and offered him a drink or two on her. He couldn't deny her with that contagious smile she had. So he let her buy him a drink, and he bought her next two.

Usually he would be talking to her first chance he got, but there was something very amusing about listening to her stories and drunken babbling that made him want to just eavesdrop. Kind of stalker-like, but she didn't seem to mind anyone listening around the room. He would make his move soon though, he had decided. She had just finished her eighth glass—more like jug—of ale; he'd been counting. She could really put her alcohol away. He was impressed.

_This is it_, he told himself and walked over to her table. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Hey, Stranger. I've been seein' ya 'ere a lot the past few… days?" She seemed to ponder this heavily for a moment, eyes glancing at the ceiling for an answer. "Want a drink on me? Your mug's lookin' rather dry there."

He chuckled and sat down in the chair. "Nah, I've had enough for the moment. Thanks…" He paused, waiting for a name.

"Syrenne!" She said a bit louder than necessary. _How cute_. _Syrenne: A beautiful name befitting a beautiful woman. _

"And yours?" She asked. "I don't really like calling people 'Stranger'. Unless you get off on being called a stranger, in which case I'll gladly oblige." She rambled and gestured with her mug, nearly spilling some of it.

"Lowell." He smiled.

"Lowell?" She hiccupped and laughed. "That's a handsome name. It… It doesn't suit you." She teased. How could she be so charming when drunk?

"Oh? That's not what most ladies tell me." He sipped the last of his drink.

"It's not, ya say?" She mocked surprise, "I reckon those girls just aren't as honest as I am."

Lowell rested his chin on his fist. "No." He said, staring at her. "I reckon they aren't."

The red head glanced at him over the length of her mug as she downed its contents. "…Are you—? You're flirting with me aren't you?"

"That was my initial intention, yes."

"And now?" She folded her arms on the table and leaned in closer, a testing smirk creeping up her face.

It was almost alarming how she caught him off guard. It was as if she was testing him to go for it but looked well and able to knock him out were she so inclined. Something about Syrenne made him feel different than how he usually felt talking to women, and he was dumbstruck for a moment. He loved women. That much was obvious. He'd flirted with every one of the women in the tavern throughout his stay. But with Syrenne he felt like there was a huge gap, a challenge, between them and he had to risk the leap and trust that she would take his hand if he slipped on the edge. He wasn't sure it was worth the risk yet. But he didn't mind harmless teasing from across the gap.

"More flirting is in my best interest now." He winked at the barmaid that poured him more ale.

"Thought you said you weren't havin' anymore?" Syrenne gave him a knowing look.

Lowell cleared his throat. "I can't deny Marge with that smile of hers. Beautiful women are hard to turn down when they offer me a drink."

Syrenne seemed to accept this a bit and let a short silence fall between them which she filled with downing the rest of her mug. "Was it the same as when you accepted my offer when we first met?"

Lowell cleared his throat and looked down at his mug. She tried to get an angle on his face, but he hid his smile by pretending to take a drink of his empty mug.

"Hah!" Syrenne said standing up and stretching, "You're not that big of a mystery, Lowell."

"And you are?" he asked as she made for the stairs.

She made her way up half the stairs and leaned over the handrail, "Yup. Girls keep all their secrets locked up _real_ tight. And only share them with someone special."

"What? I'm not special?" Lowell mocked injury.

"Only if you want to be." She said shortly and disappeared upstairs.

_Damn. She's good. But I won't lose tomorrow._


End file.
